


Checkmate

by jumyouboshi



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, belial ruins lives as always, implied lucisan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumyouboshi/pseuds/jumyouboshi
Summary: He was perfect. They all called him perfect. Lucilius, the primarchs, everyone.But Belial knew Lucifer’s weaknesses. He had thousands of years to scope them out--tocreatethem.





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> The new Lucifer-Belial interactions got me like *EYE EMOJI* and suddenly I was inspired?? Holy smokeys. And then I started talking to a friend about how cool it would’ve been if Lucifer and Belial were shown playing chess as a parallel to Bubs and Belial and I was . WHEW. 
> 
> I was rushing to get this out before part 2 of WMTSB3 just in case...Lucifer gets a really sad ending and I get too emo to look at him ever again. SO YEAH I'm sure there are mistakes galore. 
> 
> Mild WMTSB3 spoilers, but pretty much all of it is from the intro. Also some hcs about Azazel. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Checkmate.”

Lucifer stares at the chessboard in mild bewilderment. The game has reached a definitive conclusion; his king is surrounded, and no matter what moves he takes, it will fall.

“Hm? Is something wrong, supreme primarch? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules…?”

Belial’s smooth voice snaps Lucifer out of his reverie, and the white-winged primarch quickly shakes his head.

“No. I understand that it is my loss. ...If you would have me, Belial, I would like to play one more time.”

The archangel of cunning raises an eyebrow before gathering his pieces and settling back down into his chair. “Very well. If it’s what you request, supreme primarch, then--”

“There’s no need to speak to me so formally, Belial,” Lucifer interjects. “Lucilius may have designated the title of supreme primarch to me, but I would much prefer it if you use my name when addressing me. We are equals, after all.”

Belial’s lips curve into a smile.

“As you wish, Lucifer.”

* * *

_They emerged from their cocoons at the same time: an angel with six brilliant white wings that shone with the light of dawn, and an angel whose pitch black wings seemed to be made of all-consuming darkness._

_“Perfect…”_

_The voice of their creator addressed only one of them._

_“Surely, you are my greatest creation… My masterpiece...Lucifer.”_

* * *

“Oh? Is that... _frustration_ I see?”

It’s a charming expression, Belial thinks. Lucifer’s brows are furrowed as he stares hard at the board and the pieces, trying to process his most recent defeat. To his credit, he at least _looks_ genuinely surprised when Belial points it out.

“Do I appear frustrated? I apologize. I was simply pondering the pattern to my repeated losses against you.”

“Maybe you’re just not suited to a game like chess, Lucifer.”

“I suppose,” Lucifer says with a small sigh. “I do quite enjoy our matches, so I would still like to learn.” He offers a dilute smile to Belial. “But it seems that tactical games of the mind are more aptly suited to the archangel of cunning’s area of expertise.”

“Please, if you praise me _that_ much, I’ll get a big head.” Belial’s voice is lofty as he leans closer with a sly smile. “But I’m surprised… Even _you_ make mistakes when you’re hounded enough, huh?”

Lucifer slowly looks down at the chessboard again. “Perhaps I did suffer a lapse in judgement in my desperation to turn the tables. How strange...”

“Heheh. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. I’d say it was worth the ride, seeing as I got to see that charming face of yours all hot and bothered. It was cute.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean by that, Belial.”

Belial waves him off with a grin.

“Like I said... Don’t worry, Lucifer.”

* * *

_The plan was brilliant, genius, befitting of the brightest intellect of the Astrals, and Belial could barely contain his excitement. Lucilius was truly chaos incarnate; an existence that embodied imperfection, which meant that he would stop at nothing to attain perfection. That kind of endless drive was simply ravishing. Stimulating._

_“And what of our dear old supreme primarch? You’re not going to tell Lucifer at all about this?”_

_“Lucifer doesn’t need to know of our plans. He would only serve to obstruct them if he caught wind of them.”_

_“Aw, Cilius, should I take it to mean that this is so important to you that you’d trust_ me _over your honest and hardworking masterpiece? I’m flattered.”_

_“Stop wasting your breath,” Lucilius scoffs. “I’m simply allocating my resources as I see fit for the best possible results.”_

_“It was just a joke, no need to get so serious!” Belial’s fangs glint in the limited light of the room as his mouth spreads into a wide grin. “But to want to tear down everything that Lucifer’s ever believed in… To destroy the very purpose that you created him for... That’s_ twisted. _You’ve outdone yourself this time, Cilius.”_

_The newly annointed “fallen angel” licks his lips as he ponders his next move._

_“I wonder, what kind of face will Lucifer make when he loses this game…?”_

* * *

“Sariel. Have you successfully regenerated from the previous battle?”

Belial hears the voices drifting around the corner one day.

“Supreme primarch… Yes… Please don’t worry.”

“I see. Are you in any pain?”

“No… I was simply on my way for a status report...and an examination.”

“Perhaps I should accompany you.”

“Ah--it’s not necessary...”

“Is that so?”

Sariel’s voice sounds somewhat strained, but Lucifer’s is as monotone—or maybe the proper term is _painfully_ _oblivious—_ as ever.

_Don’t hurt yourself there, Lucifer._

He listens for a little longer as Lucifer begins speaking again.

“You often drive yourself to the brink for the sake of fulfilling your role. So if there is anything I can do for you to make things easier, or if there are any problems, or perhaps any dissatisfaction that you would like to address, please, let me know.”

“Really…? Well, there is…”

_Oh? Trying to be friendly, are we? Can’t have that…_

Belial finally reveals himself from the shadows and both primarchs in conversation look up.

“Hey, Sarry. Ah… Lucifer.”

“Belial. What brings you here?”

“Just looking for Sarry. You don’t mind if I borrow him for a while, do you? I needed to talk to him about something.”

“I see…” There’s a flicker of disappointment in Lucifer’s eyes. Sariel remains ignorant to it, but it’s as clear as day to Belial. “Then I will speak to you again soon, Sariel. Take care.”

Belial’s delight is disguised as a sly smile as Sariel apprehensively joins his side and they begin walking away, but not before Belial catches another wistful look from the supreme primarch.

_You look best when you’re completely alone… With no one to turn to for help._

* * *

He watches Lucifer every time he disappears into the lab garden to meet with the newest primarch, a brown-haired, red-eyed angel with the wings of a sparrow who greets Lucifer with a smile each time, which Lucifer returns in kind. 

How sweet. How very...pitiful, that the supreme primarch’s desire for companionship has driven him to such lows. That such a sickeningly sweet visage and saccharine, innocent eyes could crack him open and make him falter.

_Equals? Us? Don’t make me laugh._

But, Belial thinks with a light chuckle. The enforced solitude that plagues the supreme primarch was facilitated from the start for the best results, and Belial derives some satisfaction from the part he played in making this supposedly _perfect being_ into the thing he is today.

Because of it, Lucifer has a weakness.

The desire to be more than a symbol or a weapon.

The desire to love.

The desire to be loved.

Belial bides his time; it's what he does best. And when he has allowed the fledgling primarch become spoiled on Lucifer's affections--when he knows that the long waits between Lucifer's visits have begun to wear on him--Belial makes his move.

It's adorable, how Lucifer's pet immediately perks up the moment he hears footfalls on the grass, only to wilt again when he sees that the visitor isn't his beloved Lucifer. Belial shrugs the disappointment off, waving a hand in greeting with a friendly smile.

"Hey there, Sandy. You're still here? You don't go out very often, do you?"

Even more adorable is the way Sandalphon seems to shrink away from Belial, watching him with innocent yet apprehensive eyes...like a rabbit about to be gobbled up. "You're...Belial, correct? Can I help you with anything...?"

"No need. I was just checking on you, since Lucifer seems to have left you here on your own again." 

Sandalphon has nothing to say to that, but Belial knows he's struck a chord. "Lucifer does this pretty often, doesn't he? I wonder why he tucks you away from the world when all of the other primarchs are out there doing things for him."

"It's not my place to question his decisions," Sandalphon says slowly. Belial only chuckles.

"Guess not. He's on a whole other level from the rest of us, isn't he? He's so powerful, so important... So perfect! Makes you just wanna get down on your knees and serve him until your dying breath, huh?"

Silence. He's struck another nerve.

“Oh… Wait, could it be that you don’t serve him? At all?” Belial leans closer, surprise colouring his features. “Don’t tell me… You were born into this world without a role? A primarch created by Lucifer himself…?”

“I...don’t know. I’ve never thought to ask…”

“Huh.” It is with mock bewilderment that Belial speaks, though he knows that Sandalphon thinks it’s genuine. “Now that’s strange. Every single primarch has a role. Every primarch plays their part in serving Lucifer. What do  _ you _ do for him, Sandy?”

His voice dips, and his eyes darken as his lips twist into a sly smile, and he knows that Sandalphon is now far too steeped in uncertainty to take note of it. Ensnaring his prey is the favourite part of the games he plays, and Sandalphon has walked right into his trap. Belial gives Sandalphon a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Well, don’t think too much about it. I’m sure Lucifer will come up with something for you eventually. Surely you can’t spend your entire  _ life _ idle, right?”

He turns to leave and offers another lackadaisical wave, and Sandalphon’s silence is the only confirmation he needs to know that doubt has taken root within him. It’s only a matter of time, he thinks, before that doubt festers and tears Lucifer apart.

Belial is positively giddy for when that time comes.

_Check._

* * *

It’s even easy spreading the seeds of discord among the ranks of archangels who barely ever see the supreme primarch. These lesser angels, devoted as they are, act only on relayed messages and orders and interact very little with Lucifer, making them very easy to sway.

Others are a little harder to persuade. Azazel is _vehemently_ against Belial’s invitation into the fallen angels. “I serve only Lucifer-sama,” he asserts. “I have no interest in furthering the goals of an Astral who would no sooner see me scrapped.”

Belial resists the temptation to roll his eyes. What is it about that dreck that inspires such loyalty? When all he does is follow orders? But he can use this too. Azazel is simply another pawn that he and Lucilius can use to rip the king from his throne.

“Even if those goals will help the supreme primarch in the end?”

Azazel, already halfway across the hallway, stops dead in his tracks.

“Don’t you want to do something for him, Zazzle?” Belial keeps his voice light, sincere, sympathetic. It’s far too easy playing this game; it’s his raison d’êre. “Don’t you want to do more to support him? What we’re doing is for the good of all primarchs-- _including_ Lucifer.

“Come to think of it… You said you were going to be scrapped. But the reason you’re still here is because Lucifer put in a good word for you, isn’t that right? And I’m sure you’ve thought about it too: _what more could I do for him?”_

Belial crosses the distance between himself and the stark still Azazel and puts a hand around his shoulder, speaking as if they were the best of friends.

“Think about it… He was able to save you because he’s the most powerful of us all. He’s the one who protects everyone. But who will protect him when the Astrals eventually get tired of him?” He almost chuckles at the sheer irony of the words he weaves, spun into one of many webs to ensnare his prize. “But if you join us, we'll give you the power to save him. This is your chance to repay him for everything he’s done for you… You don’t doubt me, right? As his former adjutant, I, too, only want the best for our supreme primarch…”

Azazel remains silent for a little longer. And then, he looks up, facing Belial with resolve in his eyes.

“You called yourself the ‘fallen angels,’ did you not?”

Belial smiles.

“Welcome aboard, Zazzle.”

* * *

Explosions sound in the distance like harbingers of the end. It’s utter chaos; archangels and fallen angels alike clash as new battlegrounds erupt all over. The cacophony of war is music to Belial’s ears, but even more pleasing is the distress on Lucifer’s face as he observes the battlefield.

“You know that I am not perfect,” he had said in response to Belial’s earlier quip, and even the archangel of cunning is surprised to hear such a thing.

 _You're finally cracking, huh?_ Belial thinks as he flies away. _Will you show me that lovely expression again soon, Lucifer? Your beautiful face contorted with frustration..._

* * *

 

_In a surprising show of ruthlessness, Lucifer cut Lucilius down without hesitation. It was a major setback, and a huge irritant--Lucilius was their ace in the hole, and it’d be impossible to win the game without him._

_The fallen angels were purged, the survivors imprisoned within the newly constructed Pandemonium. Beelzebub fell soon after. Belial wasted no time in making himself scarce, but even then, he couldn’t escape Lucifer’s all-seeing eyes--not for long._

_The radiance of Lucifer’s six wings, those six_ perfect _white wings obscured Belial’s path. These are the wings that had captivated Lucilius so long. These are the wings that had captured their creator’s attention. What a waste that they were on someone, something, with absolutely no potential._

_“I trusted you, Belial.”_

_The vulnerability and hurt in the supreme primarch's uncharacteristically quiet voice was absolutely_ delicious,  _but the look of grief on Lucifer’s face was almost_ too _predictable. Equals? Him? With this boring fool who only did what was necessary and nothing more? What a laugh. Belial had wanted it all for himself._

_“And that was your first mistake, supreme primarch.”_

* * *

_He escaped from Lucifer only for Michael to find him days later. He laughed as her fires burned him alive. Belial had already been prepared for the encounter, to slip away undetected. The primarchs who served Lucifer were all equally as easy and naive as Lucifer was._

_That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, but Belial enjoyed pain as much as he enjoyed inflicting it. As he lay in his secluded cave he had stolen into, he grinned at the dark ceiling._

_A major setback. But the waiting game was one that Belial was good at playing. Biding his time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike was exactly his style._

_What happened next was bound to be fun._

* * *

The skies turn black shortly after he parts ways with the Singularity and primal beasts of light and darkness materialize from nothingness, tearing at each other with roars and shrieks that rend the air. Belial grins as two thousand years of planning finally sees fruition.

“Checkmate, Lucifer.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t write Belial at all… But if you got all the way to the end, thank you for reading!


End file.
